BloodStained Past
by Elven Cherry Blossom
Summary: The Winchesters arrived at the town to save a loved one. But, they end up finding something else and some more creatures to hunt.
1. Chapter 1

Sometimes she wondered why she did the things she did. Like watch horror movies at her old intern's house when she knew that they made her paranoid. But not as paranoid as being chased by the possessed truck that killed her father. Yeah, that had really made her paranoid. She was glad she didn't have to think about it. Or Dean.

Coming here had helped clear her head. She'd been transferred shortly after the incident. (The editor was probably afraid that she'd try and write stories about the truck or something equally "crazy" or "unpleasant.") She'd adapted quickly. Shortly after arriving, she met and befriended a murder investigator who gave her information for her stories. Also, she'd had an intern who quickly took a little sister role. Things were quiet and normal in her life.

Nothing freaky had happened since she'd left home.

After washing her face, she headed for the dresser for clothes to change into for the night. The cool breeze from the window blew on her face as she walked into the room.

_I thought I closed that, _she thought as she walked over to the open window.

She struggled with it for a while, but finally got it closed shut and locked it.

Brushing a couple strands of hair behind her ear, she went to the dresser and opened the second drawer.

_"Oh, what a shame," a sadly sweet voice said._

Her eyes widened then narrowed. She _knew _that she had locked that door. Her hand went over the clothes to the back of the drawer and her fingers wrapped tightly around the weapon.

_"Looks like I found the wrong one," she said her voice even more forlorn, coming closer._

The gun was firmly in her grasp and ready to shoot. She quickly turned around, her finger pulling the trigger. But the intruder was faster.

_"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"_

She didn't even have time to scream.

The light from the streetlamp shined for a moment on the insane, white smile as another strike cut through the air.

Everyone slept soundly undisturbed by the incident in their building.

The trigger went off and hit a picture on her nightstand, causing it to fall over and for the glass to shatter into many pieces covering most of the floor.

Cassie Robinson was dead.

The red numbers of the alarm clock read 4:13.

Two people shot up from their sleep, wide-eyed and looking like death.

I hope you all liked it. Now, _please _REVIEW! Praise would be appreciated and flames will be added to the very badly written and/or Mary Sue fanfiction bonfire. REVIEW!


	2. Scene

Sorry it took me so long to post this chapter. I got stuck in the middle then at the end.And I'm using a new word processor, so if it looks weird that's why. Also, I wanted at least 10 reviews before I posted again. So, all of you 200+ people who did not review before, please review this time and the wait for the next chapter won't be so long.

Thanks to all the people who did review: **4everdreaming, JENSENLOVER, Tidia, John Lance, ****pizzapixie, ****EmmyAngel, Brandon P., LadyoftheLlamas, ****chocolate rules, ****Ami-Konemisu, **and **vincesbabe. **Your reviews were all encouraging and I hope you continue to like and review it.

Also, I'd like to thank Little Wing. I used most of your suggestions and corrections. You're a great better reader and you gave me lots of needed help.

Disclaimer: I love it, but don't own it. Suing me would be a waste of your time.

Without further ado, enjoy and review!

Chapter One: Scene

After the pain that often came with his visions, the psychic felt dread congeal in the pit of his stomach and a lump form in his throat.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes, as he got up to check on his little brother.

"We gotta go," Sam said, clambering from the bed and feverishly packing to leave.

"Whoa, where's the fire?"

Sam didn't reply, he just continued to pack hurriedly.

"What was it?" Dean asked, trying to figure out what was going on.

"We need to leave now. I'll tell you on the way."

"Whatever, but you're not driving."

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The younger Winchester remembered having heard his brother say that Cassie had been transferred down South. So, he'd checked for Cassie Robinson in North Carolina.

Dean's voice brought him back to reality. "What exit?"

"What? Oh, yeah." He brought up MapQuest. "Just go straight."

After a moment of silence, Dean grew tired and somewhat irritated of being out of the loop and asked, "Where are we going, Sammy? You'd better not be leading us on a wild goose chase. What'd you see?"

"Cassie," Sam said quietly.

"Cassie?"

"Yeah."

"Dammit." Dean floored it, focused only on his thoughts and Sam giving directions.

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At 7:45 in the morning, a middle-aged woman roamed the halls of the apartment complex.

It was time for everyone to pay their rent. She always got up early to keep the tenants from avoiding her. Ms. Bradley could collect the rent and then have the nice rest of a landlady not ripped off by her tenants. She was tired enough lately and had bags under her eyes to prove it.

The numbers 131 came into view. Cassie Robinson. The reporter had been good at having her rent in on time, and Ms. Bradley didn't feel a need to worry. Still, it would be good to collect it now.

Ms. Bradley knocked loudly on the door a couple time and got no response. "Miss Robinson, it's Ms. Bradley. Open up, please."

Still, no response.

She waited a couple more minutes.

The landlady looked through her set of keys for the one to Cassie's apartment. Finding it, she put it in the keyhole and gave it a turn.

Despite the sense of foreboding, Ms. Bradley walked into the apartment. "Miss Robinson?"

She walked to the bedroom door that was already open ajar and pushed it open further.

As she looked in the room, she blanched and let out a scream.

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"What a way to start a day," the woman muttered to herself as she walked to the scene.

A woman had called at eight o'clock in the morning to report a murder in her apartment complex. The cops were taping up the entrance to the apartment and were taking the landlady's statements.

She ducked under the taped entrance and pushed some of her brown hair back over her shoulder. Then she greeted Lieutenant Anderson.

The landlady was pale, most likely disturbed after seeing the body. Fear was evident in her light-colored eyes. With good reason, murders always shook people.

Overhearing the questioning, she felt sorry for the middle-aged woman. You come to collect rent and find your tenant dead. Well, that's what she _said. _There was the chance that the woman had done it and was lying. Or that she was insane and after doing it had blocked it out. Still, she needed to look over the evidence before coming up with ideas that might not be true.

The police were dusting for fingerprints while she continued to listen in on the interview.

"What did she do for a living?" the officer asked.

"She was a reporter."

"Was she involved in any shady business?"

_Typical interview,_ she thought bored. _I'll read it later if it's important._

"Detective Smith, I think you should look at this," a tan young uniformed officer said as he led her a few steps to the bedroom.

"What have we got here, Murray?" she asked, her green eyes fixing him with a level gaze.

"Look down," he told her.

There was shattered glass and a picture frame at the room's entrance.

Upon looking at the body, she paled and her eyes widened.

The body was in three pieces.

The head was one, the second was from the top of the neck to just below the chest, and the third was everything from the abdomen down.

Precise strikes appeared to be the cause. It wasn't the work of any knife-yielding psycho. The bodies of murder victims were hacked up in sloppy pieces or had one direct wound to the head or heart. But such clean cuts, two of them, on a human. They were chopped as evenly as the meat in grocery stores.

If the victim had struggled, the corpse would have been more mutilated. The victim must have not struggled or had possibly been unconscious or her back had been facing the intruder.

There was a large circle of dried blood surrounding the victim. The body lay flat on the floor. There was a fair amount of space between her chest and her abdomen. As the detective looked closer, she could see an empty space where the heart should be.

_Probably taken as a sick trophy, _she thought, disgusted.

Then there was the head. That sent a chill up her spine. The dead eyes were open wide; staring blankly ahead and seeming to see right through you.

But that wasn't the unnerving part for her.

She had known the woman lying dead at her feet.

"You okay, Detective?"

She nodded shakily. "Yeah. Any idea how the intruder got in? Were the doors and windows locked?"

Officer Parker and Detective Smith paused when they heard Lieutenant Anderson's gruffly voice greet two more officers that were entering the apartment. Then they continued to discuss the murder.

"We couldn't find any signs of forced entry. No fingerprints, no weapon, no indicator of who did it. They had to have had a key or something because when Ms. Bradley found her she had to use a key a key to unlock the door."

"Not looking too good for Ms. Bradley right now," Detective Smith sighed.

Officer Parker shook his head. "There's a camera in the hallway. If she'd come and gone, it would have been recorded."

"So there's nothing to go on?"

"Doesn't look like it," he sighed. "No one came in after the victim did or any time before."

"Are you sure? That's impossible! she could not have done that to herself!" Detective Smith exclaimed.

"Well," Officer Parker said thoughtfully, running a hand through his blond hair. "The cameras _could _be malfunctioning...Or someone could have messed with them..."

He gave the room another once-over. Then he spotted and picked up the picture frame by the broken glass.

The detective snatched the picture from him and locked at it intently. The gun on the floor had apparently hit the frame and knocked it over. Had Cassie done that to indicate who the killer was? Or had she just shot and missed?

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"What are you two doing here?" the lieutenant asked, seeing the brothers enter the apartment.

"I'm Officer Matthews," Dean said, whipping out his Fed badge. "And this is Officer Walcott."

The lieutenant looked at them suspiciously. "Kinda young, isn't he?" He gestured to the taller of them.

"Yeah, he's an over achiever. Real stick in the mud too."

"Alright. But I hope you don't get real sick real easily. It's not pretty."

"What happened?"

"Like I said, Officer Matthews, it ain't pretty. Don't know how the psycho got in. No sign of forced entry. No fingerprints. Nothing. Whoever it is covered all their tracks."

"So, what happens next?"

"Question her co-workers and employer," he replied, with a shrug of his shoulders.

"You're a real asset to the department," Dean said sarcastically.

Sam hit his brother in the ribs.

"Thanks," he told Lieutenant Anderson gratefully.

The lieutenant nodded and turned his back to them.

"Cool it," Sam told him.

"Yeah, yeah," he retorted bitterly. "What's you see anyway?"

Sam didn't reply, he merely walked to the next room.

Rolling his eyes at his brother's not so subtle avoidance of the question, he followed.

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Upon hearing the two arrivals enter the room, Detective Smith looked up from the picture frame.

Like Ms. Bradley earlier that morning, she paled as realization hit her.

_To Be Continued..._

Well, I hope you all liked it. Now, _please _REVIEW! Praise would be appreciated and flames will be added to the very badly written and/or Mary Sue fanfiction bonfire. REVIEW!


	3. Questions

And now, the next chapter! Sorry, it took so long, but I've been suffering from writer's block and too much work at school. Also, I didn't get enough reviews to inspire me. **hint hint**

This chapter has not been beta-read, so be kind.

Disclaimer: I love it, but don't own it. Suing me would be a waste of your time.

Without further ado, enjoy and review!

Chapter Two: Questions

_Upon hearing the two arrivals enter the room, Detective Smith looked up from the picture frame._

_Like Mrs. Bradley earlier that morning, the blood left her face as realization hit her._

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"Morning gentlemen," Parker greeted the brothers.

Dean nodded, acknowledging the officer.

The detective got out of her shock and glared at the short brother suspiciously. "Who are you?"

Dean looked up surprised at the curt tone. "I'm Officer Matthews. This is Officer Walcott."

She nodded. "I'm Detective Smith, and this is Officer Parker. Thank you for coming gentlemen, but we have enough help here."

Dean didn't move and instead looked around the room.

"Matthews, you're not needed," she repeated coldly. "Leave."

Officer Parker was surprised by the detective' behavior. She was often much more civil than this.

"Well, we were let in. So I would say that we're needed her," the taller of the two interjected.

"Yeah, so pop a Midol sweetheart."

The detective shook her head, a slightly psychotic smile on her face. "I'd keep quiet if I were you, Matthews. Besides, I don't tell you to keep your head out of your ass."

Sam and Officer Parker watched as Dean and Detective Smith continued to insult each other.

"It's not like Detective Smith to be so insulting," the officer said.

"I wish I could say the same," Sam replied.

Eventually, Sam grew tired of listening to the insults and hit his brother over the head to shut him up.

He glared at his little brother and then addressed the detective. "What's your problem anyway?"

She held up the picture frame. "How do you explain this?"

Dean looked at the picture of himself.

"Well, what you have to say?"

"She had good taste," he replied with a smirk.

Smith frowned at him.

"You knew the victim, didn't you?" she asked as she handed the picture to Officer Parker.

The officer looked from the picture to Dean. Then he shook his head.

"What? Why is everyone looking at me like I just shot someone?"

"You look tired, Matthews," Parker observed. "What did you do last night?"

"Tried to get this guy to loosen up and have a good time," he replied, jerking his thumb at Sam.

"You two knew each other," Smith observed. "How well?"

"Pretty well," Dean replied with a sexy smirk.

She closed her eyes and cleared her throat. "Alright then..."

"When was the last time you saw her?" she asked, after a pause.

"Few months ago..."

Detective Smith didn't look convinced.

Officer Parker glanced around the room, shaking his head. His eyes fell on a book sitting open by the phone.

Dean noticed and went over to look at the open book.

Right after the young officer had read one of the names under "W", Dean snatched it.

"Let's go," he told Sam.

"Ah, shit!" the detective exclaimed after the brothers quickly left. "They took evidence!"

Parker glared down at the spot where the book had been. "Those two were not cops."

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"Where are we going?" Sam asked.

Dean handed the contact book to Sam and pointed to the name under "Winchester".

Then he started up the car and drove to their next destination.

Well, I hope you all liked it. Now, _please _REVIEW! Praise would be appreciated and flames will be added to the very badly written and/or Mary Sue fanfiction bonfire. REVIEW!


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